More Like Love
by theSunlitEarth
Summary: After a quick discussion, Viola reveals her true feeling for Jazz. ViolaxJazz, obviously, just because there aren't enough.


**Well, here's another JazzxViola fic. I guess I just couldn't help myself :) Reviews are much appreciated. **

Jazz was sitting by himself in a guest room in Baroque Castle when Viola found him. His eyes were closed, his arms crossed and his feet propped up on a table as he leaned back in his chair. When he heard the door, he opened one eye warily, checking who was there. Once he established there wasn't any danger, his closed his eyes again.

"Hello Viola."

Viola nodded once. "Jazz. I was wondering where you were."

Jazz opened his eyes, turning his head towards her. "Why?"

Viola blinked once. "Allegretto wanted me to let you know that he aims for us to leave tomorrow."

Jazz nodded, turning his head to look at his lap for a moment before glancing up at her with only his eyes when a thought entered his head.

"Is that all?"

Viola paused before shaking her head and sitting in a chair on the right side of the table.

"No. I wanted to say how sorry I am about Claves. I know you cared about her and you're still a bit shaken up over what happened."

A small smile crept over Jazz's face. "Thank you, but are you sure you're sorry about it?"

Viola blinked. "Of course I am. You loved her and she died. Even I'm not _that_ cold hearted."

"I never said that, but do you mean that you were, under no circumstances, a bit envious of us?"

_Crap, how would he know?_ "No." Viola turned away, pretending to study a tapestry on the wall. "I have no reason to be. I have Arco and my goats. I don't need a man."

Much to Viola's embarrassment, Jazz actually laughed out loud. "No Viola, maybe you don't _need_ one, but you want one."

_Why does he have to be so observant?_

"I can see it in your eyes," he continued, as if he had read her mind. "And everyone needs someone. Even you."

I was Viola's turn to laugh, even if it was bittersweet. "I herd _goats_. I don't even dress properly, like a lady should," she said, motioning to her clothing. "You've seen how all the ladies in Baroque and Forte dress." She shook her head and then paused to glance at Jazz.

"Why am I talking to _you_ about this?"

Jazz shrugged. "You're asking me?"

Viola groaned, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. She folded her arms on the table and dropped her head into them, mumbling something incoherent into the table.

Jazz cocked his head. "What did you say?"

Viola lifted her head slightly. "I said you're right."

"About what?" Jazz asked, knowing full well but wanting Viola to say it nonetheless.

Viola sighed. "About everything we just talked about." She closed her eyes. "It's just that every time I see Allegretto and Polka together, or you and Claves when she was still alive, I felt so envious. I hate it because I know that no man would ever fall in love with me."

Jazz lifted his feet from the table and sat up straight. He placed a hand on Viola's arm. "Viola, it really doesn't matter. The things you said before about your clothes and the fact that you herd goats, it doesn't matter."

Viola raised her head, suddenly defensive. "How can you know that? You don't know anything about me."

Jazz shook his head, calm as ever. "No, I don't know much about you, but it doesn't matter. I know that a man would have to be crazy to not feel _some_ sort of attraction towards you."

Viola stared at him. "You're kidding, right? I mean, no man my age has ever shown anything towards me but coldness and contempt."

"Maybe they just didn't take the time to notice your pull," Jazz suggested, crossing his arms.

"Maybe not," Viola said doubtfully, "or maybe," a slow smile spread over her face, "maybe _you're_ the crazy one."

Jazz eyed her, but he couldn't help but smile. "Touché."

Viola shrugged. "Whatever. I've been perfectly fine on my own until now, I can last however much longer it takes."

Jazz nodded. "Of course you can."

Viola got to her feet. "Thanks Jazz. And I really am sorry about Claves." She turned and began walking toward the door. She placed her hand on the door handle, but paused as a thought entered her mind. Jazz would probably get together with Falsetto now, which put Viola in third place again. She closed her eyes briefly, holding back an onslaught of tears. If only she had the courage...

"Viola," Jazz asked, breaking her out of her reverie, which had lasted over a minute.

Viola whipped her head back around. "Yes?"

"Are you alright?" Jazz inquired, noticing a stray tear that had made its way down her cheek.

She swiftly wiped it away. "Of course."

Jazz wasn't usually one to pry, but Viola's distraught expression caused him to be unable to let the subject go.

He got to his feet and walked over to her. "Viola, you aren't ok. You can tell me what's wrong."

Viola shook her head and looked away. "No I can't. I _can't_ tell you." She turned the doorknob and pulled the door open. "I'll see you tomorrow, alright."

Jazz grabbed her arm before she could leave. "Viola?"

Viola turned and looked at him. "What?"

"Thank you," Jazz said, surprising her. "For talking to me."

Viola eyed him, not really sure what to say. This was a side of Jazz that she had never seen before. To her, he was always, the quiet but fearsome warrior, ready to defend his friends with his life. She never thought that he would thank her for having a conversation with him. Maybe he didn't have many. In the end, she settled for a quiet, but confused, "You're welcome?"

Jazz smiled and pulled her into a hug.

Viola blinked but returned the embrace carefully. She was surprised, to say the least, however, she couldn't help but notice how safe she felt in his arms, even more so than when she had her hand on her bow. She exhaled and smiled.

It was a brief contact, but to Viola it felt like an eternity. When they had parted, Viola looked at him for a moment, then took a deep breath, leaning forward to quickly kiss him before she could change her mind. Then she turned and ran from the room.

Jazz watched her go, a mixture of emotions clouding his mind. He still hadn't gotten over Claves, but Viola, she was something else entirely. He walked back to his chair and sat down, leaning back, allowing himself to think. He touched his lips, feeling himself let go of Claves. Yes he had loved her, but she had been a spy, killed for her incompetence. He was sure that Falsetto would get together with him in a heartbeat, but he felt more of a camaraderie with her, a deep, long friendship.

His feelings for Viola were different, more like what he had felt for Claves. More like love.


End file.
